I Just Wanted to be Edgy Too

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Ellie

I woke up feeling rotten.

Really rotten.

The morning lurched on in sharp waves of regret as I rubbed my temples with stiff fingers. I'd lost my mind a bit yesterday when my messages to Van were left one sided. No responses to the texts I sent wishing him well on the pitch to the labels, and no response when I asked him how it went. I'd spiraled myself into straight worry, my worst habits mixing with my self doubt and history.

I drank myself deep into a bottle of wine starting late in the afternoon, and following it up with some Brandy left in the cupboards from Barns years ago. It tasted terrible and burnt the whole way down, but I didn't let that stop me from having three glasses. I passed out early in the clothes I wore all day, and woke up somewhere in between hunger and nausea. My body reacted to the nausea, and I'd been holed up in the bathroom since.

I couldn't understand why he was avoiding my messages and I tried to let reason guide me into something less ominous than what I was thinking. Maybe he didn't have service. Maybe they wouldn't let him have his phone for the meetings and after that, he never did get around to it. Maybe he lost it, although Van wasn't really the type to misplace things. Maybe they celebrated. Anything was better than the thoughts that crept neatly into the holes of my mind.

Those thoughts were usually laced in bits of laughter, in Barns' voice, reminding me of Van's past and how easy it was for him to cheat before. I knew he hated himself for it, but our past conversations on the topic didn't seem to ease my pain at all. He loved her, he thought he'd marry her, and he still did that to her. Why would I be any different?

My stomach rolled against my thoughts as I steadied myself on my feet and looked into the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and my hair was a mess. I splashed some water on my face with minimal effort and pulled my hair into a bun on top of my head. I sighed at my reflection, at the worried woman staring at me like a doe-eyed teenager. I knew better than to worry against Van. I knew better than to think these thoughts.

I frowned, letting all the weight of the world crush over me. I wondered if there would ever be a time I wasn't thinking the worst. I wondered if there would ever be a time where I'd miss him any less than this.

I stretched slowly. My muscles screamed against my bones as my skin stretched over them both. I'd been too lazy lately, falling into an easy state of despair, and her claws welcomed me home lovingly. It hadn't even been a whole week without Van yet, and it felt like I didn't know what to do with my life.

It wasn't healthy to put so much stock into a relationship, especially early on. It's also never healthy to rely so heavily on someone to make you happy, and I knew better than that, but I couldn't seem to dust that part of myself off. I clung to Van with needy fingers, especially once I realized how deeply we both felt for each other. I couldn't stop thinking about him, the distance only a reminder that it would be like this a lot.

And then there was yesterday. A brief day of silence on his end that caused me to spiral into erratic behavior. I flicked off the bathroom light and opened the door, stepping into the living room slowly, my steps wavering and my mind dizzy.

My apartment was small, situated outside of uptown and away from the chaos. I knew I wouldn't be here forever, but for now it seemed okay. And that was the truth, it was just okay. There were too many memories of my former self here. Too many outlines of what things used to be like.

I pulled a coffee mug from the cupboard and fiddled with the buttons on my Keurig machine, ignoring the empty bottle of wine and the nearly empty bottle of Brandy that stared back at me with hungry eyes. My stomach twisted again. It wasn't long before the smell of coffee hit the room and woke me up a little more, made me stand a little straighter. I reached for the cup, not bothering with cream or anything else in the moment, grabbed a blanket off of the couch, wrapped it around myself and let it hang from my shoulders like a shawl.